by Iris Gower
‘Of course we have. It sells papers and usually no-one complains.’
‘How bad is it? Who is the lady in question and does she have a case?’ Arian sat down at her desk and leaned her chin on her elbows, she could still feel Calvin’s mouth on hers.
‘It’s Mrs Sarah Frogmore,’ Mac glanced away in embarrassment and suddenly he had all Arian’s attention.
‘And?’
‘And I sort of hinted, only hinted, mind you, that her husband is of, shall we say, a deviant disposition.’
‘Oh, my God, Mac, you didn’t?’ Arian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘How could you do such a thing?’
‘It was too good a story to miss. It’s not an acceptable way of life, never will be. Not here in Swansea, anyway.’
‘Mac, that was taking unfair advantage of the man’s weakness.’ Arian bit her lip. ‘I was so careful writing the obit.’ She sighed. ‘In any case, it is not our policy to preach or lay down the law about anyone else’s private behaviour, we are not here to judge.’
‘Balderdash!’ Mac stared up belligerently. ‘It’s what we do best, my dear. We stand in judgement on someone every time we write a story. You don’t object to me writing about a man taking a mistress, do you?’
‘I do as a matter of fact,’ Arian was surprised at her own reaction. ‘I think a man’s love-life, or a woman’s come to that, is their own business.’
‘That’s a new one on me.’ Mac had risen to his feet. ‘Since when have you been so God-awful pompous about a bit of gossip? You haven’t taken a lover yourself, have you?’
‘No, but if I had, I’d make sure I didn’t tell you or I’d find it splashed all over the pages of the Times.’ She was aware her voice had risen. ‘Anyway, you should have been more careful over a story like this. You should know that Geoffrey Frogmore could end up in prison over it; it just isn’t on to ruin a man’s life in that way.’
‘Oh, so now I must cover up for perverts, must I?’ Mac was coldly angry. He began picking up his pens and stuffing them into his pockets. Arian watched him for a moment, pride prevented her from asking him what he was doing.
‘It seems to me that I no longer have a place on this paper,’ he said. ‘I suppose now that the Times is a success you don’t need an old hack like me.’
‘Well, I think you are just leaving a sinking ship, myself.’ Arian was too stubborn to beg Mac to forget his anger and stay. ‘Running out on me when I most need you, letting me deal with the mess you’ve made of things.’
‘I’ll stay then, just until I sort this out for you. Then, my dear lady, I shall be off, away. I see I’ve outworn my welcome.’
Mac left her sitting there at her desk. He didn’t, as she’d expected, slam the door behind him. Instead he closed it with a quiet finality that frightened her more than his anger.
‘Mac, don’t do this to me.’ She covered her eyes with her hands. ‘I need you, you are the one stable thing in my life.’
Now why hadn’t she said that to his face instead of getting holier than thou and lecturing him? The office was silent except for the popping of the gas lights. Suddenly Arian felt lonely, so lonely. She ached to be with someone who cared about her. There was no point in fooling herself, she ached to be with Calvin. How wonderful it would be to tell him her problems, have him take her in his arms and reassure her.
She found herself almost running from the offices and out into the street. She paused and stared round hoping for the sound of carriage wheels. She walked to the end of the street and there at the kerbside, the driver of a cab was just helping a well-dressed lady onto the pavement.
‘Wait,’ Arian moved towards him, ‘are you free to take me on just a short journey?’
‘No trouble, Miss.’
‘So it’s you, Arian Smale.’ The voice was harsh with anger and Arian looked back over her shoulder, her foot on the step of the cab.
‘Sarah, I can’t stop.’ She climbed into the coach. The last thing she wanted now was another confrontation. Sarah wasn’t letting her go so easily and hung on to the door of the cab.
‘You’ll pay for your slandering remarks.’ Sarah’s face was white in the moonlight. ‘I’ll see you in the law courts.’
‘Drive on,’ Arian commanded and slapping Sarah’s hand away, closed the door of the cab firmly. The coach jerked into motion and Arian’s last glimpse of Sarah was of her furious expression as she stood in the street, her fist raised.
Half way up Mount Pleasant Hill, Arian regretted her hasty actions. She was suddenly frightened, realizing what her appearance at his door would mean to him. He would naturally assume that she was ready to be his mistress, and was she?
The thought of being taken care of, being loved was a comforting one and yet would she ever be really happy in such a role?
When the coachman dropped her at the entrance of the drive she looked across the lawns and saw the lighted windows of the big house with a feeling of nostalgia. She had been happy here until Gerald Simples had interfered in her life.
She felt the cool night air on her cheeks as she walked along the tree-lined drive. It was spotting with rain, soft rain like tears. Arian’s step quickened, she moved towards the door and then paused, seeing a light warm the windows of the sitting room to her right.
Arian stepped across the crazy paving and stood outside the long window looking in. Calvin was in his chair with a glass of porter in his hand. Across from him sat the woman he had described as similar in appearance to Arian herself. Arian could see no likeness. All she saw was a fair-haired girl, little more than a child. The girl, Ellie, was laughing, her eyes alight as they rested on Calvin. In her hands she held a small garment, a baby gown hung with ribbons.
Slowly Arian turned away, she couldn’t break into his life, not now. She began to walk back along the drive, her footsteps quickening until she was running. It was as though her dreams of being loved had finally been torn in tatters before her eyes and Arian, like a wounded animal, was running for cover.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Sarah was fuming, her hands clenched into fists. She stood in the roadway watching the receding cab and all the foul epithets she had learned in her varied life came flooding out. A woman passed and stared at her, her ragged skirts lifted as if in disdain. ‘Whore!’ she said loudly.
Sarah drew herself up. She was Mrs Geoffrey Frogmore, she must remember that and no-one, no-one was going to shake her life to shreds, not again.
She and Geoffrey had come to an understanding since Chas’s death. They could even learn to live together again, given the chance. The main obstacle between them though was Sarah’s relationship with Gerry and she was fast coming to the conclusion that to finish it might just be the right thing.
Gerry was different these days, he seemed preoccupied. She could almost believe there was someone else in his life. She’d made up her mind to follow him on one of his jaunts to town but at the moment more pressing matters were taking her attention.
That bitch Arian had written awful things about Geoffrey in that rag of a newspaper of hers. She’d insinuated that Geoffrey was some sort of pervert. Well she would pay for that. How dare she try to ruin the reputation of folks who were her betters?
There was Jack to consider. The little boy was happy to be reunited with his mother and Sarah would kill anyone who tried to ruin her son’s life. Jack would not grow up with the stigma of a jailbird father hanging over him, she would not allow it.
Apart from anything else, it was unthinkable that Geoffrey should be accused openly of being a … being a … Her lips refused to frame the crude word that leapt to the forefront of her mind. It was too painful to have her husband branded publicly in that way, even if what was said about him was true.
She moved along the street and stood for a moment outside the offices of Church, Evans and Grove, solicitors, and then, with a decisive movement, pushed open the door.
Later as she made her way towards her home, she smiled to herself; she had
set the wheels in motion. Arian would soon learn not to tangle with Sarah Frogmore’s family. Now she could concentrate on finding out what Gerry was up to. In a way, she was looking for an excuse to end the relationship. It had become sour, the passion spent, and Gerry’s moodiness was getting on her nerves. He seemed lethargic sometimes, as though unaware she was even in bed beside him. His love-making had become less than a pleasure and whatever they had had between them, they had lost.
It was a week later when Gerry, freshly bathed, wearing his best clothes, announced he was going out and might not be back until late. Once she would have accepted it without question, eager to have whatever he gave her of himself. Now with the possibility of Geoffrey returning to the fold, she felt more confident, more in charge of her life.
When Gerry had set out towards town, she drew on her coat and followed him, keeping at a safe distance behind the trees that flanked the curving drive. He walked slowly with a slightly unsteady gait and Sarah wondered if he’d been drinking.
Once on the perimeter of the town, she hailed a cab and moved towards the door gratefully.
‘Follow that man,’ she said dimpling at the surly driver. ‘I think he’s up to no good, and I want to catch him at it.’ Oblivious to her attempt at a beguiling smile, the driver shrugged and climbed up into his seat, flicking the reigns so that the horses jerked into motion. He saw a great many strange things in his job and found it wise to keep his nose out of other people’s business.
Gerald stopped at the door of the Castle Hotel and without even a cursory glance around, went inside. Sarah paid the driver and went inside the foyer. She was just in time to see Gerry disappear up the curving, red-carpeted stairway. He acted as though he was familiar with the place and a flash of anger brought the colour into Sarah’s cheeks. He must have another woman, no wonder his love-making lacked lustre.
A few minutes later, a pretty young nurse in uniform entered the hotel and Sarah scarcely noticed her. It was only when the girl hurried up the stairs without pausing at the desk that she became suspicious.
She approached the young clerk at the desk and smiled at him. ‘Excuse me, I’m supposed to meet Mr Gerry Simples here today. Can you tell me which room he’s in?’
The clerk looked at her steadily for a moment and then, apparently reassured by her good clothes and respectable manner glanced at the open book before him.
‘Number forty-five, first floor, madam. That’s the room he always has. Shall I send a page to fetch him?’
‘No, it’s all right, I’m his sister. He’s expecting me.’ Sarah mounted the stairs with slow, deliberate tread. She was angry, very angry. Gerry was a regular here, so he’d been carrying on for some time. Her hands clenched into fists. He was so sure of himself, of her that he hadn’t even given a false name to the clerk.
The door to number forty-five wasn’t locked. Sarah opened it and at once saw the figure of a young woman lying beside Gerry. Her magnificent body was naked and she was smiling, her eyes closed, her head thrown back as Gerry cupped her breasts.
‘So you are carrying on.’ Sarah’s voice was low. ‘I hate you, Gerry Simples. I’ve finished with you, for good.’
He looked up at her, his eyes almost drowsy, he didn’t seem to care that she was there, watching him betraying her. ‘Why don’t you go home, Sarah. You’re too old for all this excitement.’
The girl was watching her, triumph written all over her young face. Gerry leaned up on one elbow and without releasing his hold on the girl, nodded towards the door. ‘Close it on your way out, I’ll be glad to see the back of you.’
‘You bastard!’ Sarah said, her breath seeming to leave her body. ‘Don’t you dare come near my house again or I’ll set the constables on you. You are finished, do you understand?’
She left the door open and hurried downstairs and at the desk she stopped, her fury at being made a fool, getting the better of her.
‘Do you know you are keeping a bawdy house, here, my good man?’ she said in a loud voice. The clerk looked up at her startled.
‘Upstairs, there’s a man in bed with a girl young enough to be his daughter. Disgusting behaviour, that’s what it is and I’m going straight to the offices of the Swansea Times to tell them what sort of establishment you have here.’
She left the hotel, her head high and once outside began to hurry towards home. Suddenly she was frightened at what she’d done; the last thing she wanted was to cause a scandal and involve herself in it. She would no more think of going to the newspapers than fly to the moon. Apart from anything else, Gerald was not a man to cross.
She would go to see Geoffrey at once, beg her husband to come home, then she would be safe. She would pack up Gerald’s belongings, get rid of them and him for good. Her mind was made up, she would go to Geoffrey’s house now, talk to him, convince him he must come home.
She took the train, fuming with impatience all the while and then let herself into his modest house without knocking on the door. She wouldn’t give him a chance to rebuff her before he’d heard her out. The warm scents of the kitchen rose, tantalizingly mingling with the clean smell of beeswax polish. Geoffrey’s house was well kept.
But he would come home once she asked him and she would be Mrs Geoffrey Frogmore, a lady with a husband’s protection.
To her surprise and delight, Sarah found Geoffrey seated in the drawing room, his son playing at his feet. He looked up as she entered the room and for a moment, a light of welcome flickered in his eyes.
Sarah went to him and kissed his brow. He smiled up at her like a lost dog and she knew he was missing Chas badly. ‘I want you to come home,’ she said almost pleadingly.
‘There’s nothing I’d like better. I’m so lonely,’ he replied. ‘But what about …’
‘There’s nothing stopping you, nothing,’ she said firmly. Gerald wouldn’t dare show his face now and as for the newspaper article about Geoffrey, well it would all be disproved if they lived together again as man and wife.
‘If you’re sure …’ Geoffrey said pitifully and Sarah smiled warmly, feeling an overwhelming urge to protect him.
The first thing Sarah did was to fire the old ‘aunt’. The next thing was to move Geoffrey and Jack back home where they belonged.
As she’d expected, there had been no sign of Gerald. She’d relented over his clothes and had them delivered to the hotel. From his ensuing silence, it was clear that Gerald was accepting her decision as final.
It was about a week later that she woke in the early hours of the morning to hear pitiful sobs coming from Geoffrey’s room. She left her bed and moved towards the door, pausing for a moment, her hand on the knob, her heart beating swiftly. Dare she intrude on his grief? Would she be doing more harm than good?
She went silently into his room and climbed into bed beside him, and winding her arms around him began to rock him as though he was a child. He clung to her, his face buried in the warmth of her neck, his tears hot against her skin.
‘There, there, my love, it’s all right. Everything is going to be all right, believe me. I’ll look after you.’
Her hand slid along his belly and he seemed, at first, to cringe from her touch. She persisted, whispering softly to him, coaxing, encouraging him, her experienced fingers arousing him in spite of himself.
He moaned softly and she could feel his heart beating against hers. ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of, lovely,’ she whispered. ‘I’m here. I’ll see that no one harms you. I’ll always care for you, don’t you worry now. I’ll give you ease, you’ll see.’
In his ecstasy of release, he was blind and deaf, his long abstinence from physical love clouding his judgement. He didn’t seem to realize that he was giving himself to her, so deft was Sarah in manipulating him.
At last he fell away from her, turning from her over onto his back, his breathing ragged. She smoothed his brow, her triumph overwhelming. That was the first time, and if she could make it happen again, it wouldn’t be the last. True it w
as not a satisfactory coupling, not where she was concerned, for she’d needed to make him mad with the need for release before she’d taken him to her. It had been over in seconds but at least, this way, she would have what she wanted, power over her husband.
That night she slept in his bed and this, she determined, was how it would be from now on. He didn’t have anyone but her. He needed her strength now and like a good wife, Sarah would be there to care for him.
Arian opened the thick envelope and took out the document from inside. The paper crackled as she unfolded it and it was some moments before Arian realized that the document was summoning her to appear in court to answer the charge of libel. Wordlessly, she handed it to Mac who stared down at it with his mouth pursed.
‘I suppose I’d better print a retraction.’ He spoke without meeting Arian’s eyes, he was still angry with her. ‘It’s my problem, leave it with me.’
‘No, it’s my problem. I’m the proprietor of the newspaper. I’ll go and see Sarah Frogmore myself.’
‘I don’t see why—’ Mac began but Arian cut into his speech abruptly.
‘I’ll deal with it. Sarah needs another woman to handle her. You’d be outclassed my dear Mac, devious though you may be you don’t understand what sort of person Sarah Frogmore is.’
‘What if Gerald Simples is there, what will you do then?’ Mac frowned.
‘For once your gossips seem to have let you down. Gerald has left Sarah and is staying in an hotel with a young, very young, lady.’
‘I see, very well.’ He wasn’t pleased but he sank back in his chair accepting her right to take charge.
‘I’ll be clearing out my desk at the end of the week.’ He leaned back and dropped his pencil on the pad in front of him. ‘I can see you don’t need me, not even to clear up this business of the Frogmores.’
‘No,’ Arian said carefully, ‘I don’t need you for that, I don’t even need you to make decisions for me. I can stand or fall by my own mistakes. But what I do need you for is to write my leader articles for the main paper. I need your talent for gossip – no-one can ferret out scandal like you.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Just consult me occasionally when there’s a story that’s doubtful, like this one.’ She tapped the summons.